Suicide Letters
by juliasejanus
Summary: After all Alex had been through his life could be summed up by connections to a mere ten people.


Suicide Letters

A worn out and haunted young man sat on the beach the early morning of his 21st birthday. Alex Rider had put all his financial affairs in order. His trust fund and the sale of Ian's house in Chelsea would become a sports scholarship at Brooklands School. He'd ingested enough sleeping tablets to sink a battleship. He undressed in the grey of pre dawn, folding his clothes in a neat pile on top of his shoes and went out into the waves.

The next morning as a local trawler caught a body in its net, six letter were read.

Dear Miss Bedfordshire

I know its been nearly six years since you saw me last. I always liked you. I know you suspected something was very wrong the year after my uncle Ian died. You never judged me or turned me away. You never believed those rumours at school. I know you were waiting for me to ask for help, but I got to a point where nothing could help. I was being blackmailed and abused. I was getting repeated used by adults who should have looked after me. I was a child lost in an adult world and I broke.

You think therapy would help, but after five years of not being able to connect with people and only being able to tell your ever so understanding therapist about your inability to connect you get the point of saying fuck it.

So I have made a decision. Probably the last of a long list of wrong decisions, but at least I get peace or if I'm lucky I get to see Jack and Yassen again. When you read this they should be pulling my body out of the sea at Port Tallon. That's where my life went to shit, so its a symbolic place to die.

If you see another kid sliding into oblivion like I did. Please don't wait for them to ask for help. They might not accept it, but try.

Goodbye

Alex (Alexander John) Rider

Born 13/2/1987 died 13/2/2008

Fox/ Ben

I kind of hate you for turning away when I looked you up after I left California. You thought I should stick it out at MI6 because I was good at the job. In our last conversation I told you if I stayed I'd be dead within six months. Well at least I lasted over 4 years in the real world. You probably think I took the cowards way out. I'm tired Ben. I have tried so hard to make something, anything work for me. You see a successful independent young man. It was all a facade. I am still a fucked up child, one who you helped abuse. I never got over seeing Jack die or the lies Ian told me. I have had three monumentally fucked up affairs since I left the Bank. I won't call it love cause it was really just a continuation of the abuse heaped upon me since I was 14. I don't even think I'm gay. Taking it up the arse is just another form of self torture proving to myself that I'm just a fucked up little whore. I know I was tortured and raped and no one should loose their virginity that way, but I think I deserved it for Scorpia to do that to me. Too bad that CIA rescued me, because I was looking forward to a long slow painful death.

See you and the rest of K unit in hell.

Cub/Alex

Dear Smithers and Mrs Jones

I hope you can forgive me. I know you had faith in me and supported my decisions to get away from all that Alan Blunt and Ian Rider had planned for me. I know I could have been an excellent assassin or agent, but I broke and I chose to be burned rather than return.

I never got over my last experience of Scorpia hospitality and yes my rejection of your help at 17 was stupid, but I needed space to think. I hid the extent of my problems well, but I was always rather good at that. I bet you've also read the letter I sent Ben. I forgive you for your involvement in the path Ian and Blunt sent me down, that path I fear was inevitable. If I had talked to shrinks earlier, I think I would have been pulled from missions after Yassen died. What can I say, to admire a man as cold and as ruthless as Yassen Gregorovich meant I was emotionally compromised even then.

I have been backed into a corner by some devastating personal failures on my part. Normal life is not for me and I would rather be dead than turn into Ian Rider.

So goodbye, so long and sorry.

Alex

Dear Edward, Margaret and beautiful Sabina

Thank you for trying to pick up the pieces after Jack died. I do not blame you for anything that happened in California. I'm purposefully pushed you all away, just so Scorpia did not kill you as they killed Jack.

I think I can truly say I love you Sabina. I wish I could have been with you, but you deserved the best, not a broken fuck-up.

Goodbye

Alex

Bernd/James/Francois

You are all users. I hope you all enjoyed screwing me over. You should meet up because you all deserve each other.

Did I kill myself because of you? No, not really. I know you only treated me the way I deserved. Used and abused, discarded and thrown away.

Alex

Remember me Tom, Druggie Rider, MI6's fucked up teenage agent.

I bet you thought I moved to California and lived happily ever. Well, Scorpia never forgives and never forgets. I lasted three months with the Pleasures and I ran. At least I got to take my GCSE's. Three of Niles buddies caught up with me in early 2004 in New Mexico. I was their special playmate until the CIA extracted me. I was a good heroin addict and whore. I took my A Levels in a lovely retreat in Montana. I went to Cambridge and pretended to be normal for two and a half years. I hate normal, it sucks even worse than torture.

Have a good, long, boring life.

Alex


End file.
